His Last Battle
by BloodInkLilacQuill
Summary: A one-shot of Oromis in his final battle, what goes through his head? What does Murtagh do? Please R


**Disclaimer, I own NOTHING! No really... Poalini owns all this along with the publishers and blah etc etc... **

**PLEASE R&R!  
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In a moment that seemed to last an eternity, and yet still not be long enough, Oromis felt many emotions, his mind categorized them in the order his mind registered them, cold, fear, shock. Oromis felt cold, he knew it was just the blood leaving his body, but his mind registered it as the bitter sting of cold. Fear, Glaedr felt fear, but Oromis did not feel his own fear. only the fear of his familiar. He felt shock, he felt the wind and he saw the darkness collapsing his senses but no, he did not feel fear. 'Perhaps to live is to fear?' He thought. He could feel Glaedr's attempts to save him and his pleas to hold on, they seemed so faint and faraway. Oromis wondered if he could actually hold on but then realized, he didn't want to. He was too tired and in too much pain, not just from the gaping wound along his chest, if that were it he would fight but it was the pain he felt all the time. He imagined the pain often as piranhas, eating away his will ever so slowly day by day. He turned his thoughts away from that though, knowing the pain would soon be over was such a relief. He was ready to face the void. He faced the darkness with a welcoming leap of his soul.

Being traditional to his people he did not believe in an afterlife, but he held a hope, at that moment that perhaps generations of belief were wrong, perhaps he could exist in a place where there was no pain, no war, could such a place exist? He could no longer discern what the golden dragon was saying but he could feel him talking still as Oromis' brain started to shut down of its own accord.

Murtagh couldn't believe what he'd just done. He had entered the battle with no intention to hurt the fellow rider, maybe bruise him about a little bit but never hurt him, never KILL him. His vision blurred as he watched the beautiful golden dragon fight to keep his rider alive, rush to safety away from him. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and then set his face to a determined look. He felt his senses go up in a heated prickle, felt something change from deep within his chest but he ignored it, barely registering the odd sensation as he made a decision. He ordered Thorn to fly forward.  
"No!" His dragon said, ignoring his order.  
"Now!" He used the power of the souls of the dragons to force his dragon forward and so Thorn did as he was ordered, killing the Golden dragon in a bout much like a child being forced to do something.  
"NO!" Murtagh was out of his saddle before either of them could think. He ran down Thorns' head, and leapt off his head onto the golden dragon now falling lifelessly. He didn't know what he thought he could do, later he would realize he was no longer thinking in communicative thoughts, just in actions. He fought his way to the saddle holding the golden elf rider and too the knife out of the elfs belt. He barely recognized Thorn biting into the dragon and pulling up, attempting to stop the inevitable. Together they all headed back to the earth, Murtagh cut the binds as fast as he could, slashing and cutting, even drawing blood in his hurry. He could see the world spinning around and around and the earth seemed to appear on all sides of him but he had eyes on one thing only, getting the corps of the rider free.

He managed to get it just as Thorn lost patients and pulled him away, they dangled mid-air, Murtagh held the dead elf to his chest, both their feet dangling below them as he watched the dragon hit the ground with a 'boom'. Murtagh made no attempts to rejoin the fight or even get into his saddle, he ordered Thorn to fly away to safety and so Thorn did as he was told.

Murtagh was sobbing as he leaned over the body. He pumped his power, his being into the body in a way he couldn't understand. He felt his magical reserves ending and used the power of all of his Eldunarí, of even Thorn. He leaned back away from the body and onto a nearby rock which jutted out of the hill awkwardly he was out of breath and soaked with sweat. He had done everything he could, there was nothing else to be done this he knew but he just could not stop.

He studied the mans face, the man that he had killed in cold blood. He couldn't describe why he felt bad about this man in particular, he had killed before. This was different he knew it with his being but he could not say why. He begged the man to come back, to breath again, to open his eyes and kill him if he wanted, but come back. He used the power of everything he owned even a hidden power within he never knew existed. He could never forgive himself for the mistake he had made, even under mind control. He felt himself being surrounded by the enemy but he no longer cared, even when their boots came into his view he refused to look up, to look away from the fellow rider.

He felt Thorn fall, giving his life's essence to Murtagh despite still not understanding his rider's need. It hurt, Thorns death it felt like a thousand knives driving right into his very soul, he may not have known Thorn for very long but it still hurt. Not nearly as much as the pain he felt for killing the rider. He didn't even know his name but he knew he could never live with himself, if he lived for the rest of eternity he would trade it all for taking that back. They said something, in their tongue, he ignored them, not understanding what they were saying.

A lady was crouching next to him then, she took his face by the chin and directed his face until he was forced to meet her eyes.

"You are very sorry for what you have done, but it cannot be changed now, he is dead and cannot be brought back. All you will do is die yourself, you are spent."

"What was his name?" Murtagh asked, he knew he looked pitiful, saw some people smirking and outright laughing at him, his face felt swollen his eyes were hard to keep open and he was slowly slumping down as his body no longer had the strength to keep him upright. He could see she was not about to answer him. "I need to know."

"Oromis, Togira Ikonoka or Oromis the cripple who is whole." She said finally, by now he was barely conscious.

Murtagh had to concentrate hard for a moment, not only was he quickly falling to unconsciousness but also he had not learned many words of the ancient tongue so it took him a moment. "Oromis togira Ikonoka lífa" Murtagh said, 'Oromis the cripple who is whole lives.' And with that he placed his head down and released his last breath which fogged out of his mouth.

The queen had both buried next to each other the very next dawn. On a stone not far from where they lay was an inscription:

_'Sé mor'ranr ono finna _

_May you find peace.'_

Oromis the Golden and Murtagh the Proven

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**This is a one-shot but the story itself is continued in 'the Inheritance Cycle' and is titled 'to Live is to Fear' If you like what I've written, please go there and read the story! It is in a different section because, well I read the book, saw the movie and they both seemed the same to me, slight differences but no major distinctions.  
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**As always please PLEASE, R&R, five minutes of your time will just make me so happy!**


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